FT 

MEPDE 




.vrVl 




',p 


, t .1 


M '/• 




Copy 


' 'V 'H •' 


m 


m 


\\ 












• #>.v 


- < VJtf 


K 




■'iif 




iK 








/T' 


-y 






' t *, » 




I -j 


/*'r 




- '*£ V .1 




lhS1 


vM 


.-I 


A, >V 


» . g 




ir 


-•v 


.( t 




■S) 




*'- * S:. 


L^;-rJ 


f/ 




■Vi* 






? ! 


■r^ ■> 


« ' 


- - 1 / 




v’. • 


. f M 


I '://-■/ 

> i£ 


;ii 






# < I 


<.• - ' 


;/ 


'4 


» jV*. 






. t • 


it 


:t, V 








.1 '•• 








.«.v 


.V: 


Y^> 


! - 


1% 




# ■< 


'^’ t / 


‘ .\y 




•.i^j 


* " • I 


Vn - 






1^5 


■v* V 


_>T 








*_ 


m 


^:«W 




t.N* 






rih 


:^e 


<■ 




*' • C^*'- I 'V^ri* -:•'■ -^ • 




• I ♦ ^ '■' 4^‘- ■’i 

; ' Ji Tj •^- TVv^ri'^Li 

'•■■■ ''<■;>■» 

.• ^.J 

' ^’V- '-7 

'S 


i ' . 


t • 


*. •; ■.•''*r, ir' •’;>i.i'r' 

Ir * *' ii- ■'^'•-? i'^'^v' 

I ■ ' ■• •> Jj'i* 5 i'’''i* ;>■ ^ 

^ ' .. \g- .;■ 


■.' ' -ti'.-. 

T J . . „4 


k i 


‘7i 








• •%■ 
:v..:'(, 


1 ^ 


, t 


^ssFy 




iV 


■ «' >< 


.'.i 




I. 


*v » 


‘T' 




> ( 






/ . > . I 


( ' . • 


'* .- 


i7*r 


, ,:; ; 


V 


, 'r' 


\ ' 


I. 


.r--i 


j- f 







LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

Chap..^.^. Copyright No. 

Shell 


UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 


I > 

t 

*• 

t 


» 






• 



V 


V • 





t 


0 




I 










4 



i 



I 


t 


I 


v's';# 




\ 


» 



s 

I 

« 


« 




Ji . 

i 

>1 . 


N 



\ 


4 



* 

A 

\ • 




J 





I 





I 





• « • 


i . A 









': V ,j 

■♦■ ; . T>'' ’t 

. \j ‘ ^ w* ^ 


i^PWI- ^ ‘1 
iiy':. 

' .’ Alv i 1 *. VA*' 

. v^-v V'. ;. *'.i\ 

-*;- '•,,•■ I ' ♦ • » i 

■■ ■»-:: '. 'i., 



t' 




. J 


■ •. '.' ..'•' ' -V^'* ' 


Ujt^OiO'.*v ‘ • ■ 



f 


^ ; 4 


\ ♦ 


••'■ '/ <■/;■; ifi 



^ • 'I 






wra|^ 


t f. 









'j 


';-i' - ■ aiL^^A',\ ■' 

K’- ,t*- 'K.JiW . , . : . ■ •'i ■■ 

-;i'*- * -r » 


''■■•'■■ L\*- * vW5>^ AjS^®i 


■*« 


» . 


I . 




' • 


-M 






Aty'.jvJur ' 


. •?:• 


' V 




y. »i 


i I 


9 

« 


r A 




Buzzer’S Christmas 


BY 

MARY T. WAGGAMAN, 

u 

Author of Torn's Tuck Tot," etc. 



NEW YORK, CINCINNATI, CHICAGO: 

BE^NZIQER. BROXBKRS 
Prmterspiif^e' )To0S!A<^stoHc Se^ 


NOV 9 1897 


■ “LS fi ^ 



IN THE SAME SERIES 

My Strange Friend. By Rev. F. 
J. Finn, S. J. 241110, 25 cents. 

The Boys in the Block. By M. 
F. Egan. 24nio, 25 cents. 

The Fatal Diamonds. By E. C. 
Donnelly. 241110, 25 cents. 

The Lamp of the Sanctuary. By 
Cardinal Wiseman. 24mo, 25 
cents. 

The Three Little Kings. By Emily 
Giehrl. 24mo, 25 cents. 

Master Fridolin. By Emily Giehrl. 
24mo, 25 cents. 



Copyright, 1897, by Benziger Brothers. 


BUZZER’S CHRISTMAS. 


I. 

Christmas was coming — com- 
ing — coming. A white Christmas, 
with his jolly old face peering 
above a robe of ermine, his brow 
crowned with icicles, his eyes 
twinkling with frosty glee. A 
rousing, merry, hearty, good, old- 
fashioned Christmas, whose cheery 
voice seemed already sounding 
amid the din of the great depot, 
where huge vans of Christmas 


6 


Buzzer's Christmas. 


goods were unloading, and jolly 
groups of schoolboys and girls 
starting homeward for the holi- 
days. For the very next day 
would be Christmas Eve, and even 
the big black engines seemed to 
have caught the spirit of the time, 
and were puffing and panting like 
good-humored Christmas giants 
ready to whisk off with all the 
burdens laid upon their grimy 
strength. A merry, busy, bustling, 
distracting crowd it was through 
which Mrs. Bennett guided her 
two pretty little children and their 
apple-cheeked Irish nurse, until 
she deposited them with a sigh of 
relief in the cosy corner of a parlor- 


Buzzer^s Christmas. 


7 


car. There was no Christmas joy 
on the anxious little mother’s face, 
though she had looked forward to 
this holiday for years. It was to 
have witnessed her first visit to her 
girlhood’s home since her marriage 
to an army officer, stationed at a 
distant Western post. She had set 
oilt joyfully with her little ones to 
spend Christmas with the beloved 
grandmother they had never seen, 
and had nearly reached her destina- 
tion when a telegram announcing 
her husband’s serious illness re- 
called her to his side. 

She felt the long return journey 
at this inclement season would be 
too much for her children, besides 


8 


Buzzer’s Christmas. 


it would be a bitter disappointment 
to her mother, who had made every 
preparation for their welcome, so 
she had resolved to send them on 
the remainder of the way with their 
faithful, but simple-minded nurse. 

‘‘Now keep still, my darlings, 
and be very good. Keep Buzzer 
in your lap, Norah. Take off 
your fur collar, Dolly, but don’t 
forget it when you. leave the car. 
Here is the little hand-bag with 
your tickets and checks. Remem- 
ber the station is Glenwood, and if 
mother’s carriage is not waiting 
for you hire one, and tell the man 
to drive you to the ‘ Manor. ’ Do 
you understand, Norah?” 


Buzzer's Christmas. 


9 


‘‘I do, ma’am. Share it’s a 
born ijut I’d be if I didn’t aft her 
the times you’ve towld me. Don’t 
worry about me and the childher, 
ma’am ; it’s enough throuble and 
harrutbreak you have, wid the 
masther lying sick away off at 
home, and calling ye back to him. 
We'll get to the ind of our journey 
all right, ma’am, an’ it’s the light 
of the ould lady’s eyes the swate 
darlints will be this blissed Christ- 
mas time.” 

They will, they will, I know” 
— and the anxious little mother’s 
voice broke almost into a sob — 
but, oh ! it is such a bitter dis- 
appointment to send them like 


10 


Buzzer’s Christmas. 


this. I had looked forward to this 
Christmas so long— so long. There 
is the bell ringing. Kiss mamma, 
darlings. Be good children, and 
mind Norah. Grandmamma will 
love you so much —so much . Take 
care of little brother, Dolly.” 

Five-year-old Dolly lifted a 
sweet, little, grave face, whose 
quivering lips told she understood 
the situation. 

“ I will, mamma, I will. Don’t 
cry, sweet mamma. Norah and 
me will take good care of Buzzer.” 

‘‘ My baby, my darling baby !” 
and the troubled mother bent to 
kiss the rosy little mouth. “ Re- 
member he is a little hoarse, Norah, 


Buzzer’s Christmas. 


11 


and don’t keep him a moment out 
in the night air for fear of croup. 
Tell mother, and she will know 
how to care for him. God bless 
and take care of you, my dar- 
lings,” and the tender voice broke 
utterly. 

“ He will— He will, ma’am,” said 
the warm-hearted Norah sympa- 
thetically. ‘‘ Shure wasn’t He a 
babe Himself this howly time ? 
He will take care of yours, niver 
fear.” And then the cars gave a 
starting jolt, the mother pressed 
another passionate kiss on each 
little one’s lips and tore herself 
away, gazing through blinding 
tears, as with a puff and a shriek 


12 


Buzzex^s Christmas. 


the train gathered np its strength 
and swept off with her heart’ s treas- 
ures into the wintry distance. 

Then did Buzzer, who was a gold- 
en-haired cherub of two, suddenly 
arouse from his absorption of a 
peppermint stick and realize the 
situation. 

Mamma ! mamma !” and his 
stentorian wail woke the echoes of 
the car. Mamma is gone ! Come 
back, mamma ! Mamma ” 

Whisht now — whisht !” plead- 
ed Norah. ‘‘It’s back again in a 
minute she’ll be. Isn’t it lookin’ 
afther the fine rockin’ -horse that 
Santa Claus is going to bring ye 
she has gone ? Whisht, darlint ! 


Buzzer"* s Christmas. 


13 


Howly Mother Mary, but he can 
outscrache the black divil of an 
in jin itself ! Whisht, Buzzer ! See 
all the gintlemen looking at ye and 
wondhering at a big man like ye 
crying like this. Shpake to him, 
ye alanna” — and Norah turned 
desperately to Dolly— ‘‘ afore he 
scrames himself into croup.” 

‘‘Buzzer” — it was Dolly’s first 
lisping attempt at “brother” that 
had given the baby his household 
name — “don’t cry. Buzzer. Mam- 
ma had to go to poor papa ; he 
was sick. And we are going to 
grandmamma’ s — dear grandmam - 
ma’s. Buzzer.” 

“ Me don’t want gamma !” roar- 


14 


Buzzer’s Christmas, 


ed tlie unappeased Buzzer. ‘‘ Me 
wants mamma— mamma — my own 
pitty mamma !” 

‘‘ But grandmamma is our pretty 
mamma’s mamma,” continued the 
gentle little genealogist. And, 
O Buzzer ! you know what lovely 
times mamma had when she was a 
little girl. You know about the 
ponies, and the cows, and the chick- 
ens, and the dear little woolly 
sheep.” 

‘‘ Ba-a sheep,” said Buzzer, sus- 
pending his roar for a moment as 
he recognized the oft-told story. 
“ Gamma give Buzzer ba-a sheep, 
gamma give Buzzer pony, but me 
want mamma — my m-a-m-m-a !” 


Buzzer's Christmas. 


15 


“Grandmamma will give us 
everything,” continued little Dolly 
eagerly — “ everything beauty -ful, 
Buzzer. She is going to have a 
Christmas-tree high as the ceiling, 
and we will hang up our stockings 
in the chimney, and Santa Claus 
will fill them tight full. And 
grandmamma is going to bake us 
cookies and gingerbread horses, 
and let us go sledding and skat- 
ing ; and, O Buzzer ! she will be 
just the nicest, goodest grandmam- 
ma in all the world !” 

“ Dood gamma,” murmured 
Buzzer, his filial grief fading into 
a shadow before such a combina- 
tion of delights. “ Me likes gam- 


16 


Buzzer's Christmas. 


ma, me likes cookies. Give Buzzer 
cookie now. ” 

God bless you, thin, take it,” 
said Norah, delving into the depths 
of her bag and bringing out the 
coveted dainty, which stopped 
Buzzer’s rosy mouth more effect- 
ually than the most eloquent ar- 
gument could have done, and soon 
the little pair, with their pretty 
noses flattened against the car-win- 
dow, were watching the white land- 
scape flitting by, as if there were 
no grief or pain or parting in this 
bright, spotless world. 

Such a beautiful world it was, 
for the Christmas greeting had 
thrilled through old Nature’s heart. 


Buzzer's Christmas, 


17 


and she liad robed herself for the 
gladdest festival of the year. 

Now the train swept through a 
forest, where every tree stood 
wreathed and garlanded in snow 
blossoms ; now it rumbled past a 
ridge of rock, cloaked in dazzling 
drifts ; now it skimmed over heights, 
where the mountain pines glistened 
in icy armor and crystal plumes ; 
now it thundered through gorges, 
where the cliffs were hung with 
fairy fretwork, and every little 
shrub wore cap or bonnet of downy 
white. 

Fields were veiled and mountains 
mantled ; over all that was harsh, 
or fierce, or rugged, or unlovely 


V 


18 


Buzzer's Christmas, 


had fallen the tender, pitying pu- 
rity of the Christmas snow. 

‘‘0 Norah! look — look at the 
little birds !” cried Dolly delight- 
edly, as a flock of snow-birds flut- 
tered away in fright at the passing 
train. 

“ Aye, aye, look at thim, dar- 
lints, for it’s joy and luck they 
bring,” said Nor ah. 

“ ‘ Where birruds come picking the Christmas 
snow, 

There comes no throuble or want or woe. ’ 

An’ it’s naether sthrange nor quare, 
for they say in the ould counthry 
that it’s not birds they are at all, 
but fairies in feather coats.” 

‘‘ Fairies in feather coats ! 0 


Buzzer^s Christmas. 


19 


Norah ! tell us about tbem,” said 
Dolly eagerly. 

“ Tell about fezzer coats,” mur- 
mured Buzzer, sleepily nestling 
into tlie girl’s kind arms. 

‘‘Listen, tliin, and I’ll tell ye,” 
said Norah, who dreaded a revival 
of Buzzer’s lament. “ Whin the 
could winther comes the fairies go 
into the foine castles they have 
deep down in the ground. Grand, 
illegant castles they are, such as 
mortal eye has niver seen, and the 
rooms are carpeted with soft moss 
and hung with lace such as only 
spiders can spin, and lit with glow- 
worms in diamond lamps that burn 
bright as stars. 


20 


Buzzer's Christmas, 


‘‘ And foine times the fairies 
have, you may be sure, wid barrels 
of honey they buy from the bees, 
and naught to harm or hurt thim 
the winter through. But whin 
Christmas comes the tendher-heart- 
ed little cray thurs can’ t rest. They 
know all the childher is wishing 
and wanting and axing, and they 
come back to bring thim luck and 
joy and fairy gifts But because 
of the cowld and the snow they 
put on little feather coats, and 
come back as birruds.” 

‘‘ Tell more— more about fezzer 
coats,” commanded Buzzer, whose 
gold-fringed eyelids were begin- 
ning to droop hopefully. 


Buzzer^s Christmas. 


21 


And cuddling up her trouble- 
some little charge, Norah told more 
simple, Old World legends of this 
blessed time, while the glory of 
the sunset faded and the rosy flush 
of the hills deepened into violet 
and purple, and night came on 
radiant and starlit over a world in 
which there seemed no spot or 
stain. On and on swept the train, 
the one flerce, strong, restless thing 
in the wintry stillness ; on and on, 
shrieking over the white wastes, 
rousing the slumbering echoes of 
the snow-robed mountains, leap- 
ing in its slender rail of steel the 
drift-piled gorge. 

Buzzer was sleeping happily pil- 


22 


Buzzer’s Christmas. 


lowed on Norah’s arm, Dolly liad 
dropped off into a light slumber in 
her softly cushioned chair, even 
Norah was drifting away dreamily 
to the green shores of her own 
Irish home, when the stentorian 
shout, ‘‘ Linwood ! All off for 
Linwood !” made her start. 

‘‘ Glinwood !” she exclaimed. 
‘‘Was it Glinwood he called, sur V’ 
she asked of the gentleman behind 
her. 

“ Linwood. Yes, madam, this 
is Linwood,” answered the passen- 
ger, who was an old bachelor in 
ear mufflers. 

“ Glinwood, thin it’ s our place !” 
said Norah, nervous at the sudden 


Buzzer's Christmas. 


23 


arrival. ‘‘ Wake up, childher, 
wake up. We are to get off here. 
Put the tippet around your throat, 
Dolly. Give us the bag. Quick 
now, or we’ll be carried off again. 
Come, come !” 

And quite unconscious of the 
consonant dropped from her des- 
tination, Norah guided her half- 
awake nurslings to the platform of 
a busy little station, where lights 
were flashing, cabmen shouting, 
porters swearing, and all the ex- 
citement was prevailing naturally 
caused by the arrival of the one 
night train that honored the place 
with a stop. 

Buzzer, bewildered into silence 


24 


Buzzer’s Christmas. 


for a moment, stared at the stars, 
the crowds, the flashing lights, 
and then as the train dashed away, 
like a passing meteor, he lifted up 
his voice again and roared. But 
there was a new note in the roar, 
an ominous note that made Norah’s 
heart sink. 

He is croupy, as the misthress 
said. Howly Mother, let me get 
him out of this freezing night air 
quick ! Is there a carriage here 
for us— Mrs. Lester’s carriage? 
Ax for it, if ye plaze, my good 
man, and if it hasn’t come get us 
wan at wanst. It’ s not here, ye say, 
thin we must hire wan. I can’t 
kape the childher in this murther- 


Buzzer^s Christmas. 


25 


ing cowld. It’s to the Manor we 
want to go. The misthress said 
ivery one would know the place. 
Whisht, Buzzer darlint, we’ll be at 
your grandmother’s in a m innit.” 

She means Worden Manor,” 
explained a bystander. ‘‘ Cedar 
Hill, you know, on the South 
Road.” 

“ Jump in, ma’am, right here,” 
said a cabman. I know the 
place. Let me lift in your little 
girl. And your trunks ?” 

“ I can sind for thim in the 
morning. Sorra trunk or box will 
I stop for to-night,” answered the 
distracted Norah, as the little one’s 
croupy cry arose again on her ear. 


26 


Buzzer’s Christmas. 


‘‘ Drive on, man, quick as ye can. 
Let me get the child to fire and hot 
wather.” 

And jumping on his box, the 
man drove on through white, 
ghostly, wintry woods, until he 
reached a great house that rose 
frowning and gloomy amid a grove 
of spectral pines. 


Biizzer’s Christmas, 


27 


II. 

Tea had been just served at Wor- 
den Manor. A grim and gloomy 
repast it was, although the silver 
service glittered with a family 
crest, and the delicate china had 
been in the Worden closet for at 
least three generations. But there 
was no Christmas cheer or Christ- 
mas gladness in the great stately 
rooms that opened into each other 
like the shadowy vistas of some 
gloomy dream ; the tall waxen can- 
dles burned drearily, as if they 


28 


Buzzer’s Christmas, 


were only melting into waxen 
tears, while the great hickory log 
that old Eph, the colored man, had 
just placed upon the wide hearth 
sputtered and fumed angrily and 
positively declined to crackle or 
blaze. The old hickory, perhaps, 
felt that his light and warmth 
would be wasted here on these lofty 
rooms, where all was the chill, icy 
grandeur of the Alpine heights 
that never melt. And the haugh- 
ty, handsome old lady who sat in 
her high -backed chair sipping 
strong black tea with a crested 
spoon looked as if she had frozen 
over heart and soul. 

Five years ago Madam Worden 


Buzzer'' s Christmas. 


29 


had returned from a long residence 
abroad, and shut herself up in her 
old home in a grim seclusion, upon 
which, after a few friendly at- 
tempts, no one ventured to intrude. 
Kumor said that her only son had 
defied and disobeyed her by a mar- 
riage which she could not forgive, 
and that she had disowned and 
disinherited him. Her other chil- 
dren had died in babyhood, and 
handsome, high-spirited ‘‘Jack” 
had been the idol and hope of her 
life. She had gone abroad that he 
might have all the advantages of 
foreign universities and foreign 
travel ; she had come home alone, 
stern, silent, embittered, it seemed, 


30 


Buzzer’s Christmas. 


against heaven and earth. Even 
kind old Father Durant, who, 
knowing her to have been a Catho- 
lic in the past, ventured on a pas- 
toral call, came back with a trou- 
bled face. The old madam had 
sent him word that she was no 
longer a member of any church, 
and declined to see him. 

So it was that Worden Manor 
had grown grimmer and gloomier 
every year. One-half the house 
was shut up, grass grew on the 
broad avenue, ivy tangled the 
closed shutters, the cedars pressed 
against the barred doors, while in 
the wing she had reserved for her- 
self the old madam lived in lonely 


Buzzer'^s Christmas. 


31 


state, waited upon by the aged 
negro man and woman who had 
taken care of the house during her 
wanderings, driving out sometimes 
in her closed carriage, but never 
stopping to speak or smile or bow 
to any one she passed. 

Sterner, grimmer, and colder 
than usual was the old lady on 
this particular evening, as she sat 
at her dainty tea-table, with old 
Eph at his post behind her high- 
backed chair. 

What were those boys doing 
at the gate this evening?” she 
asked, as she dropped a lump of 
sugar into her cup. 

Dey cum to ax if dey mout 


32 


Buzzer’s Christmas. 


cut some Christmas greens,” an- 
swered the old man hesitatingly. 

Dem cedars is crowding fai’ly to 
de souf do’, and de wall is rank 
wif ivy. I thought if you didn’t 
mind ” 

‘‘ But I do !” she interrupted 
harshly. I will have no young 
ruffians tearing down my shrub- 
bery. Let it be pruned, cut down, 
burned, if necessary, in the spring, 
but I will not have a twig touched 
now.” 

Jes’ as you say, missus,” an- 
swered old Eph apologetically. 

I jes’ thought, long ez ’twas 
Christmas times, you know.” 

‘‘ Christmas !” echoed the old 


Buzzer’s Christmas. 


33 


madam fiercely. ‘‘ What have I 
to do with Christmas ? I have had 
nothing but begging letters about 
Christmas for the past two weeks. 
Sunday-schools, asylums, hospi- 
tals, poorhouses— it is the cry on 
every beggar’s lips, Christmas! 
Christmas ! Don’t say Christmas 
again to me, do you hear?” and 
she struck her ivory-headed cane 
angrily on the floor. There is 
no Christmas for me. I hate the 
very name.” 

Jes’ — jes’ as you say, missus,” 
faltered the old man — jes’ as you 
say. Lawd ! Lawd !” he muttered 
to himself as he shuffled off to his 
pantry with the tea-tray, it do 


34 


Buzzer’s Christmas, 


’pear like old missus was getting 
wusser and wickeder every day. 
But I’ve alius lieern it was that 
way,” continued old Eph, shak- 
ing his grizzled head solemnly. 

When a mother’s heart once do 
turn, it turns harder than anything 
in de ’arth. Poor Marse Jack ! to 
think how ole missus was sot on 
him once, and now— now she won’t 
even let old Chloe what nussed 
him speak his name. Lawd ! 
Lawd ! I alius knew de Wordens 
were hard-headed folks, but ole 
missus’ heart is harder yet. It 
dun froze to de berry bottom, 
shuah.” 

And old Eph grumbled on while 


Buzzer’s Christmas. 


35 


his mistress sat with her dark eyes 
fixed upon the hearth, where the 
great hickory log still smouldered 
angrily in his thick bark coat. He 
had not been warming his heart 
with summer sunshine for twenty 
years for any such business as this. 
No sour-faced old woman brooding 
over a silent hearth would get 
blaze or glow from him — no, indeed. 
And the big log rolled over sullen- 
ly, and was just going quite out 
when there was a quick peal at the 
door-bell, followed by a lively al- 
tercation in the hall below that 
stirred the dreary stillness like a 
wintry breeze. 

Let us up, I say,” cried a fresh, 


36 


Buzzer^s Christmas, 


ringing voice — ‘‘ let us up at wanst, 
ye black fule of a naygur, and 
don’t be kaping the childher out 
in the cowld. It’s expected we 
are, I tell ye. Where’s the ould 
lady ? Whisht, darlints, we’re safe 
now, the Lord be praised ! Come 
on !” And then the door of Mad- 
am Worden’s especial sanctum was 
flung open unceremoniously, and 
Norah, flushed and excited, ap- 
peared on the threshold, while pat- 
tering across the polished floor 
came two little fur-robed flgures 
with outstretched arms. 

Grandmamma, we’ve come ; 
dear grandmamma,” piped little 
Dolly. 


Buzzer's Christmas. 


37 


“ Gamma ! gamma ! My gam- 
ma !” huskily lisped Buzzer, catch- 
ing the old madam’s knees. 

For once in her life the old mad- 
am was struck dumb. She had 
started to her feet in rage and won- 
der at the intrusion, and stood 
glaring fiercely at the newcomers, 
while the clasp of the little hands, 
the music of the little voices, smote 
her heart with a maddening pang 
—such a pang as perhaps the frozen 
lake feels when the first sun shaft 
pierces its icy breast. 

God be praised. I’ve got thim 
safe till ye, ma’am !” continued 
Norah breathlessly, too full of de- 
lighted relief to notice anything 


38 


Buzzer’s Christmas, 


wrong. The black naygur be- 
low wasn’t going to let ns np to 
ye at all, and the child threatened 
with the croup, ma’am, so I didn’t 
dare even to wait for their trunks 
and boxes. Come here, childher, 
and let me take off yer coats so 
your grandmother can get a look 
at yez. It’s the long, cowld way 
they’ve come to ye, ma’am. Be 
aisy. Buzzer darlint, till I get afl 
yer leggin’s. It’s the lovely sup- 
per grandmamma has ready for 
ye, and the nice, hot bath afore 

ye’re put to bed, and ” 

“ Ephraim !”— the old madam 
had found voice at last— Eph- 
raim !”— and she struck the floor 


Buzzer’s Christmas, 


39 


fiercely with her cane, as the terri- 
fied old man entered — how dared 
yon let these people in ? Put them 
out at once — put them out !” 

Mother of God!” gasped No- 

rah. 

This woman is either mad or 
drunk !” continued the old mad- 
am, trembling with fury. 

‘‘Mad or dhrunk I” repeated 
Norah, her Celtic spirit flashing 
into fire. “ Why, ye outbreakin’ 
ould reprobate, it is mad or dhrunk 
ye must be yersilf 1 But God for- 
give me, mebbe it’s some sort of a 
sthroke the poor ould craythur has 
had that tuk her wits. Don’t ye 
mind ye sint for yer grand childher. 


40 


Buzzer^ s Christmas. 


ma’am — yer own born daughter, 
Mrs. Bennett’s childher? Ye’ve 
been writing for them this twelve- 
month, Mrs. Lester, ma’am. Och, 
she is looking at them dumb as a 
stone !” 

Mrs. Bennett ! Mrs. Lester !” 
A light began to break on the old 
madam’s fury. am not Mrs. 
Lester, you fool ! Mrs. Lester 
lives at Glen wood, twenty miles 
from here.” 

“ Glinwood !” echoed poor No- 
rah ; and what place is it we are 
at?” 

This is Linwood.” 

‘‘ Wirasthu ! wirasthu !” cried 
Norah despairingly. ‘‘It’s all 


Buzzer's Christmas. 


41 


astliray we are ! Twinty miles 
away ! And black, bitther night 
widont. What are we to do ? 
What are we to do at all— at all 
And Norah’s wail was echoed by 
poor little Dolly’s frightened cry, 
while Buzzer roared croupily over 
all. 

Hard and cold as she was. Mad- 
am Worden was a lady still. Mrs. 
Lester was her social equal, she 
had been her friend as well in the 
long ago. Her grandchildren could 
not be turned out houseless in this 
winter night. 

You can do nothing but stay 
here until morning,” she said cold- 
ly. ‘‘I will have a room prepared 


42 Buzzer’s Christmas, 

for you. Hush, girl— hush, for 
mercy’s sake !” and the old mad- 
am put her hands to her ears in 
desperation. “ Ephraim, bring 
back the tea, milk, sugar, cakes— 
anything to stop these children’s 
mouths. Let the west chamber be 
warmed. They will stay here for 
the night.” 

“ God bless ye, ma’am !” said 
Norah fervently. ‘‘It’s the kind 
harrut ye have, afther all. Ah, 
but I was the blundering ijut 
afther all the misthress towld me. 
Whisht, Buzzer darlint ! Ah, it’s 
sthrange and quare they f ale in this 
great, dark house, ma’am ! I’ll 
blow up the fire and make it blaze 


Buzzer's Christmas. 


43 


a bit to warrum tbim. An’ if ye 
don’t mind, ma’am,” continued 
Norah confidentially, as slie knelt 
before the hearth, Dorothy has 
great sinse for a little craythur, 
and she understands, but Buzzer 
will scrache himself into a fayver 
if he finds, we are asthray — if ye 
don’ t mind, will ye let him belave 
you are his grandmother just for 
the night, ma’am 

The old madam’s brow darkened, 
but she had had a specimen of 
Buzzer’s “scrache.’* 

“ Yes, yes,” she said impatient- 
ly ; “ tell him anything— anything 
that will keep him quiet !” 

And then, whether it was the 


44 


Buzzer^s Christmas. 


poke that Norah gave him in his 
ribs, or the grim joke he saw in 
the situation, the old hickory gave 
a roar of glee that fairly burst his 
coat of bark, and went to work in 
earnest. Good gracious, how he 
did snap and crackle and blaze ! 
What showers of sparks he sent 
flying up the black- throated chim- 
ney ! How the old dark, gloomy 
room seemed to fill with dancing 
light ! Ah, the old hickory saw 
his work now, and he meant to 
do it ! 


Buzzer's Christmas. 


45 


III. 

Brighter and brighter blazed 
the old hickory as Uncle Eph, with 
a dazed grin on his face, set the 
table again with tea and milk, cold 
chicken and jelly, and the dainty 
biscuits and cakes his mistress al- 
ways fancied ; and the pretty little 
strangers, seated on either side of 
the broad mahogany table, filled 
the long, silent room with the music 
of baby voices. 

Higher and higher leaped the 
ruddy fiames, while the old claw- 


46 


Buzzer’s Christmas. 


footed andirons gleamed and spar- 
kled, the tall, ghostly mirrors 
flashed back the glow, even the 
carved griffin on the old madam’s 
high-backed chair winked good- 
humoredly, and a big picture over 
the mantel, that had been abso- 
lutely lost in the shadows, started 
into vivid light. 

It was the life-size portrait of a 
small boy on a white pony, and it 
caught the eye of the other small 
boy at the tea-table, who turned 
restlessly away from milk and 
cookie at the sight. 

‘‘ Boy,” murmured Buzzer — 
‘^pittyboy.” 

Yes, yes ; drink your nice 


Buzzer^ s Christmas. 


47 


milk, darlint,” pleaded Norah, still 
in a state of distraction at her mis- 
take. 

Me wants to see pony,” con- 
tinued the little fellow, struggling 
from j^orah’s lap and pattering 
back to the hearth, where the old 
madam sat in grim silence. ‘ ^ Gam- 
ma” — and a chubby little hand 
was laid fearlessly on the old lady’s 
knee — me want to see pitty boy’s 
pony.” 

‘‘You can’t, child ; it’s gone — 
long ago,” was the curt answer. 

“ Pitty boy gone too, gamma 
asked Buzzer, totally unimpressed 
by the harsh tone. 

“ Yes.” 


48 


Buzzer'^s Christmas. 


Buzzer stood silent for a moment. 

There is a brief period of a small 
boy’s life when he is three-quarters 
angel, as every mother knows. 

Buzzer was at that period now, 
and as he stood in the full glow of 
the old hickory, his golden curls 
falling over his flushed cheeks, his 
beautiful eyes shining like stars, 
his snowy brow shadowed with 
baby thought, he looked as if he 
were only poised a moment by that 
childless hearth, while he unfolded 
his wings for flight. 

“ Buzzer sorry,” he said, doubt- 
less regretting the departure of boy 
and pony for personal reasons of 
his own. Buzzer be your boy 


Buzzer's Christmas, 


49 


now, gamma. Got more ponies, 
got more ba-a sheep, gamma 

Yes, yes, child ; go to your 
nurse. Here take him, girl,” said 
the old lady impatiently. 

‘‘No, no,” cried Buzzer, with a 
favored child’s capriciousness ; 
“me don’t want Norah, me want 
gamma. Take Buzzer in lap, gam- 
ma,” and the petted little fellow 
scrambled trustingly to the old 
madam’s knee. “ Buzzer sick,” 
he continued pitifully — “ Buzzer 
sick down his froat. Bery bad 
sick, gamma.” And the golden 
head sank back wearily on the sup- 
posed “ gamma’s” breast. 

What that touch stirred, what 


50 


Buzzer’s Christmas, 


that little gurgling cry awakened 
God only knows, but the old mad- 
am roused from her grim abstrac- 
tion wifch a shivering start. 

The child is sick — ill,’’ she said 
brusquely. He must be put to 
bed at once. He has croup, and I 
know what that is, girl, if you 
don’t.” 

Ah, the old madam knew in- 
deed ! Far away in the dim past, 
when her heart was still young and 
soft, that same hoarse sound she 
heard now had struck like a knell 
on her ear. Two little mounds in 
Father Durant’s churchyard told 
of the lost battle for two baby 
lives, whose blooming might have 


Buzzer^s Christmas. 


51 


changed earth and heaven to 
her. 

“ God help us, it’s croup in- 
dade,” cried Norah despairingly. 
“ Let me take him. Buzzer, dar- 
lint, come to me.” 

No, no,” gasped Buzzer hoarse- 
ly, clinging to the ‘‘gamma” so 
long pictured to his baby dreams 
as the giver of ponies, the owner 
of ba-a sheep, the mistress of a 
childish paradise of delights ; me 
likes gamma — dood gamma, nice 
gamma” — and the soft, little hand 
patted the old madam’s withered 
cheek — oo make Buzzer well, 
gamma.” 

Howly Mother, what will I dq 


52 


Buzzer" s Cli r is f mas. 


with Mm f’ wailed Norah, as the 
child’s voice rose into the barking 
cry of the dread disease. “ He 
has it, indade, and me here among 
the cowld-harruted sthrangers, and 
niver a dhrop of medicine or doc- 
ther at hand. Ochone, it’s dead 
he will be afore morning, me baby, 
me baby !” 

Oh, no, no !” cried poor little 
Dolly, beginning to sob in terror ; 

don’t let Buzzer die, please don’t 
let Buzzer die !” 

“ Hush ! hush !” said the ol'd 
madam sternly to Norah ; ‘‘ you 
are frightening the children to 
death, girl. Be still, I say. Eph- 
raim, quick, send Chloe here with 


Buzzer's Christmas. 


53 


a tub of hot water ; don’t wait for 
the bedroom to warm, let her bring 
it right here. Then saddle the 
roan and ride for Doctor James as 
quick as you can. Tell him I say 
it’s a matter of life or death.” 

Then began the battle, the fear- 
ful battle that so many nurseries 
know. Norah was but a raw and 
frightened recruit ; Aunt Chloe, be- 
wildered by the sudden demand on 
her, could only obey orders, but 
the old madam was a veteran with 
all the tactics burned upon heart 
and brain. 

At her quick, clear commands 
the frightened Dolly was put to 
bed in another room, and the sim- 


54 


Buzzer's Christmas, 


pie household remedies were 
brought from storeroom and kitch- 
en. It was her steady hand that 
bared the little, snowy limbs, tem- 
pered the water for the bath, 
wrapped soft blankets around the 
struggling form ; it was to her — 
this grim, stern, hard, cold woman 
— the suffering child clung as if he 
felt she were his only hope on 
earth. 

Gamma, gamma,” was the 
piteous little cry, oo make Buz- 
zer well.” 

The doctor could not come ; he 
was miles away at another pa- 
tient’s bedside. 

All night long the battle lasted ; 


Buzzer^ s Christmas. 


55 


all night long the old hickory 
blazed and crackled and filled the 
room with warmth and glow, and 
burned his great stout heart away 
to cheer on the unequal fight ; all 
night long the old madam fought 
Death hand-to-hand, as she had 
once fought for her own. 

Once in that dark, chill hour, 
just before the day, the battle 
seemed lost. With purpling lips 
and pinched nostrils the child had 
flung back his head, breathing 
only in hard, broken gasps. 

He is gone ! O Mother of 
Heaven, he is gone !” wailed 
Norah in wild despair. 

Not yet, not yet,” was the 


56 


Buzzer's Christmas. 


stern, low whisper at her side. 

Pray now, girl ; you can pray 
for the child — and — and his moth- 
er. Pray !” 

And falling upon her knees, 
Norah prayed aloud in her simple 
Irish faith. 

‘‘ O dear Lord and Saviour, 
spare our little baby ; spare him 
to the poor mother who trusted 
him to ye. 0 Mother Mary, think 
of the swate Babe who came this 
howly time, and take pity on the 
poor mother’s breaking liar rut. 
God have mercy on us all, poor 
sinners, and lave the little innicent 
angel wid us. O swate Lord, it’s 
the throes of death that is on him 


Buzzer^s Christmas. 


57 


now,” cried tlie poor girl in an- 
guish as the child flung up his 
hands in a fierce struggle. 

Not death, but life. Life had 
conquered ; and when, in the faint 
gray of the morning twilight, the 
doctor arrived in hot haste, his 
saddle-bags packed with medicines 
and instruments, he was not need- 
ed. 

The old hickory was a mere bed 
of dying embers now, but the 
madam still sat before the hearth 
with Buzzer sleeping softly in her 
arms, her eyes dim with strange, 
sweet tears, that told the ice had 
melted from her strong, proud 
heart forever. 


58 


Buzzer^s Christmas. 


‘‘ Ephraim,” called his mistress 
when her little patient had at last 
been safely tucked away in her 
own great high-posted bed, and 
the sun was shining joyously on a 
sparkling, wintry world, here is 
a letter that must go at once to 
Mrs. Charles Lester, at Glen wood 
Manor. The train stops at ten. I 
want her to know that her grand- 
children are here, safe with me. 
It will not be prudent to move the 
little boy to-day, so she will prob- 
ably come here to meet them. Tell 
Chloe to prepare for company.” 

Ye-yes, ma’am,” stammered 
the old man in bewilderment. 


‘‘You can leave this as you pass 


Buzzer’* s Christinas . 


59 


the grocer’s. It is an order to be 
sent to Father Durant’s for— for — 
his poor, ” said the madam a little 
awkwardly as she met old Eph’s 
wondering stare. ‘‘ And — and 
those evergreens yon spoke of 
may as well be cut down at once. 
I may wish to open the south par- 
lor. The boys can come and take 
all they want.” 

Jes’ — jes’ as you say, missus” 
— jes’ as you say.” 

‘‘And, Eph, I’ve been a hard 
mistress all these years. I —I— I’d 
like to give you a little Christmas 
gift. Here are ten dollars to buy 
something for Chloe and yourself.” 

“ Lord bless ye, missus, me and 


60 


Bitzzer'^s Christmas. 


Chloe nebba found no fault,” 
faltered the old man. ‘‘It’s on- 
ly de old woman ; she do grieve 

sometimes bout— bout ” Eph 

paused, fearing he had gone too 
far. 

“ I know, I know,” and it was a 
dim, dewy light that came into the 
keen old eyes, “ Chloe has had 
more of a mother’s heart for my 
boy than I had, Eph. Leave this 
at the telegraph office. It is for 
Master Jack. I have called him 
and— and — my daughter home.” 

“ Bress de Lawd !” exclaimed 
old Eph joyfully. “ Chloe — where 
is you, gal ? Chloe— Chloe — Lawd — 
missus— jes’ you listen now if you 


Buzzer^s Christmas. 


61 


wants to hear dat old critter sing 
hallelujah.” 

“ Alleluia !” all the world 
seemed singing it this blessed 
Christmas time. 

For Grandmamma Lester, a 
dear, delicious, snowy-capped and 
snowy-curled old lady, who had 
been in a state of distraction about 
the non-appearance of her darlings, 
came over to Worden Manor in a 
rapture of gratitude and relief, and 
the two grandmothers, who had 
been convent girls together forty 
years ago, kissed and cried over 
each other in the hall, and were 
once again Madeline and Henri- 
ette. 


62 


Buzzer's Christmas. 


Then when it was decided in 
grandmotherly conclave that Buz- 
zer could on no account be moved, 
even to find the Christmas waiting 
for him at Glen wood, three young 
uncles home from college for the 
holidays threw themselves man- 
fully in the breach and agreed to 
transfer Christmas bodily and en- 
tirely to Worden Manor. And 
with three young uncles managing 
affairs the hilarious state of things 
that followed quite defies descrip- 
tion. 

Such a bonfire of old hickory 
as roared and laughed up the 
black-throated chimney ! such a 
Christmas-tree as rose in the cor- 


Buzzer's Christmas. 


63 


ner of the room ! such a rocking- 
horse as pranced upon the hearth- 
rug ! such a doll house as towered 
by the window ! such an array of 
drums, horns, trumpets, soldiers, 
dishes, tool -chests as were scat- 
tered around everywhere ! It was 
no wonder the grim old j)ortraits 
stared down in astonishment and 
the carved griffin blinked and the 
‘^pitty boy” laughed down mer- 
rily over the transformed scene, 
while Buzzer, who for awhile had 
threatened to disturb the felicity 
of the occasion by positively refus- 
ing to recognize his natural rela- 
tive, and clinging to the old madam 
as gamma,” was at length per- 


64 


Buzzer's Christmas. 


siiaded to compromise by accept- 
ing hoth^ and held fast to his faith 
in the gamma who had saved 
him forever. ” 

As to the old madam, dearer 
even than the pretty, dark-eyed 
children that Jack and his gentle 
little wife brought to her from 
their exile across the sea was the 
sturdy, golden-haired little mis- 
sionary who had fought his way 
into the frozen depths of her heart 
on that bitter winter night. 

Every Christmas he comes from 
his Western home to spend the 
blessed season with his two grand- 
mothers. And when the poor, the 
sick, the sorrowing, the sinful are 


Buzzer's Christmas. 


65 


sent by old Father Durant to the 
kind lady, who is his right hand 
now in all good works, he says 
sometimes with a smile, ‘ ‘ Ah, my 
good old Madam Worden I She is 
a saint now — she was not always. 
God called her by a little mission- 
ary just two years old.” 


Printed bt Benziger Brothers, New York. 





.. . 

'V-V '.v '-W ^ 

Ay/\/ * " ! *■ s ‘ y 


‘•i 


' ■ ' -. ■■"'•< K^i 


tf rt 


«» 


i. 


vJ.r.-> 


ilWalWiMW- '' -L ■ • '•• . 

^Ij8®w/'/ ' '**, ' * ' W ■ >' ' ' y> ’' J.- ' ’ -f 1‘ 

S^\yy;/A - ' .■■,“ ■ •■■.* 


^ X ‘ 1 ‘. 




A 


llffj'M£Xir> .'' ‘""v ■ ' iiMrHiMlfl^BlRL ' - ‘ 1 'i- 




rV 


4 • 




« I 


X t 


V * 4 i 


'Va 


« % 

rr 


'• . , ' 

i ^ /• 


<4 


.:; 'Nolmi; 


t> 4 . 


#• 


t 




^ ? 4 X^r^ 


/ 


W . ■•. '• -€,• 


; 


J 




t'? 


V .r. _ * • 4iV > 4 UWA'T'. / 


■^.1 


f < 


"I 


K • .‘v, I i' 





^ -■ p' .v.-/ ''Av-S 

fc|^^r r a; ^ 

^-' ' . Rl^'f^' j '■ ♦■. ' * '• '.t' > ’ ■ ' -^ 


I r • 





V A : • :,.' tf: 




# X* 


-'■' V' uf'€,ViU'>* ) 



V » 


^ f 








LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



e 002 568 928 8 # 


